dissection of a home
by ImInsaneAfterAll
Summary: "There's a coldness that comes with it." or how Rachel is losing it — like clinically.
1. f a t h e r

_**AN: umm heya guys! This just came over me one night and wouldn't let go, so please tell me if it's crap(well, you could sugarcoat it a bit :D) and I will stop torturing everyone with it! Anyways, here's a sort of 'first chapter' where Ray Ray's just realizing things don't always turn out like they do in movies, and the next couple of ones will be her sorta analysing her 'sisters', so first up will be Sarah (cause Rachel's a big gay dork and she always puts Sarah first duuh), then Alison, Cosima and so on...**_

_**Umm, I guess that's it! Let me know what you think of it or if I should continue! :)**_

* * *

There's a coldness that comes with it.

Not like an inner coldness, one of the soul, not like how psychiatrists describe feeling hollow. But rather a shivering of the bones, limbs trembling in the hot sun. Was this how having a family felt like? Was this really what Rachel had dreamed of for _so_ long?

In the dreams she dared not share with anyone ( foolish dreams that, no matter how hard she tried to put a stop to, always managed to slip past her eyelids every night ), family felt like coming home. Like all her life had been a giant trip ( the Dyad, Leekie, the glass walls she'd grown up surrounded by ) and finding a family of her own would feel just like coming home, tired but happy, sun-freckled skin on soft, familiar sheets.

This was... _different_, to say the least.

There was no warmth pooled in the depth of her heart, but rather... a strange _coldness._

* * *

**_Father._**

* * *

The arms of a strange man around her, weighing her down. This man, this_ Ethan Duncan_. Was this her father? An old man rambling on and on about the most trivial of things? Was this the brilliant Doctor Duncan?

No, it _couldn't_ be.

_This couldn't be it_.

Not after years of wanting and wishing, not after endless nights spent crying and praying and _'pleaseplease bring me back my parents doctor leekie doesn't tuck me in like mummy did and he doesn't read to me like daddy please i just want them back why did you take them from me i don't want those stupid tapes i want **them**'_. There had to be more than_ this_. More to_ family_.

The images might have slipped away, lazy autumn days spent in the park forgotten in favor of white walls and harsh, fluorescent light, but the feelings had always remained. Fleeting bursts of_ 'i used to belong'_ and_ 'i was loved'_ always tormenting her. A little taste of what would never come. Like poisonous little arrows they shot away at her chest, ripping her insides open, veins raw and throbbing.

And she'd done it. She'd found her family. _A father_.

So where was her reward? Family meant belonging, and belonging meant being loved, and love was warmth, and hot tingles everywhere. So where had she miscalculated?

The equation was fairly simple:_ father = family = home = love =__** happy**_. This _wasn't right_.

Yes, she'd always struggled to keep her lines straight and her loops perfectly neat, and she could never remember which lakes went where or how tall all of the mountains were, but math had never been a problem for her. She'd taken to it quite quickly, the endless rows of numbers soothing her. Math followed an order. Unlike those pesky 'Creative Essays', there were definite steps you had to take in solving an equation, you couldn't just make up numbers and signs, there was no room for childish additions, no space to ramble.**_ No_** mistakes.

So really, this didn't make sense at all._ Rachel Duncan did not make mistakes_. She could not have wasted years of her life wishing on fairy-tales, pixie dust leading her straight down the bloody rabbit hole.

Then why was she not happy? Why was she not _home_? If_ Sarah Manning_ had managed to make a family, a home for herself with her so called_** sisters**_, why couldn't _she_?


	2. s a r a h

_**AN: sooo, here's the Sarah one. I decided I'd post it so you guys can sorta get the feel of how this will go idk.. Let me know if you liked it or not!**_

* * *

_**Sarah.**_

* * *

Sarah Manning is _light_, she is warmth and sunshine. Her eyes are fireworks, her laugh a booming explosion of sounds all mixed together ( sorrow and happiness bleeding into cries of joy and anguish). She spreads her light across the earth, and she is _not _selfish.

She's quite a careless creature, Rachel has noticed, leaving pieces of herself in everyone she meets, in every memory made, every laughter shared ( the good times she leaves behind with a cocky grin, while the bad ones leave her knuckles scratched raw and her tongue metallic, but still with a grin plastered on dry lips ).

She may not be the smartest of them all, but she is quick on her feet and her fists are always ready, aching to rip and tear apart flesh from bone. She doesn't use pompous words to make herself understood, doesn't care for impressing anyone ( how ironic, Rachel thinks, seeing how she's the one who always leaves the biggest impression on people).

She's lost in the science of it all, but she knows the words _'family'_ and _'protect'_ like the back of her palm, recites them in her sleep like a prayer. A walking paradox, Sarah is both the rebellious daughter and the soft-eyed mother.

But Sarah Manning is _fire _and_ electricity,_ she burns the earth she walks upon like a brilliant sun, turns Rachel's wings into _ashes_ ( that's what she gets for getting so close to the scorching sun that is Sarah Manning). She loves fiercely and protects her family with sharp fangs and mighty roars.

She knows nothing of control, doesn't care for it. The only laws she follows are the ones she makes up for herself. _No_ man can step in her way and come out unscathed. The magnitude with which she burns is immeasurable.

But if there is one thing that can stop Sarah Manning, if there is any kryptonite that can stunt even the glorious sun, it's found in soft sandy ringlets and dimpled smiles. It's tiny fingers curled around crayons, scribbling messily on paper, it's squealing and belly laughter, paddling barefoot down hallways and mispronounced words. For a tiny girl, the smallest in her class, but wise beyond her seven years of life, even the radiant sun stops in its tracks ( and little Kira, Rachel muses, is every bit the spitfire her mother is, she is the daughter of the Sol and her light will blind many).

Sarah Manning is caring and loyal, and but she is _raw and unpredictable_, and yet she has a _**home**_ ( not a cage, not four glass walls suffocating her like she's an animal at the zoo, an attraction for the ugly men and women dressed in lab coats and armed with sharp needles and frightening words ).

Out of all the clones, she hates Sarah Manning the most.


End file.
